Secret Admirer
by Col3725
Summary: Struck suddenly with a realization, Booth comes up with a plan to show Brennan just how much she means to him...Set in Season 4, AU, more information inside
1. Chapter 1

**_Okay, so this story is based on a prompt I received. JasperDolphinsDaffoldis asked for a story detailing Booth and Brennan's first date, set in season 3 or 4, so that means no Hannah and no Booth asking Brennan to take a chance. _**

_**I was not planning on starting this story now or soon, even, but inspiration can strike anytime and anywhere and I'm powerless to ignore it. **_

_**Two things about this story before we get to the first chapter:**_

_**-**__**This will be a short story. Maybe 5-7 chapters.**_

_**-**__**It is cannon up until Season 4's "The Man in the Outhouse", but the story itself is AU**_

**_Enjoy!_**

* * *

Booth sat in his office, slumped over in his chair, his head resting on his folded arms. They were in between cases right now, so he had things he needed to be doing, but none of it sounded appealing. There were other things on his mind, namely his partner in a silky-black-figure-hugging-love-cut dress, her soul-piercing ice blue eyes, her laugh when he had told her stupid jokes (some courtesy of his son), and her smile when he had completely butchered the French at the restaurant they went to the night before. He was going to take her out for Chinese and she wanted Thai, but they ended up at a French restaurant instead.

What weighed the heaviest on his mind and heart, though, was the sadness that lurked just below the surface. It hadn't stayed masked the entire evening, however. He had seen it when there was a short lull in conversation every time the waiter stopped by their table, when he was coming back from the restroom, and whenever she looked over the menu. He desperately wanted to take her pain away; he just didn't know how. He might not agree with the choices she had made recently in her personal life, but that didn't mean he wanted to see her get hurt. Those two guys were clowns, as far as he was concerned. She was an amazing woman, and if they couldn't see that, then they didn't deserve her. He loved her and—_loved her? You don't love her. She's your partner, that's all._

He sighed and tilted his head, glancing at his computer screen. He pushed himself up straight and stared at the advertisement that had suddenly appeared. He was oblivious to the visitor at his door as he stared at the ad for an online flower delivery service. He was still trying to figure out what he could do to make her feel better when it finally hit him. _That's it. You have to show her just how special she is, how much you love her. There you go again. You don't love her. You care about her, that's it. You have to show her how much you lov__—**care** about her. _"That's what I have to do," he said out loud.

"What do you have to do, Agent Booth?"

Booth jerked and turned towards the door. "Ever hear of knocking, _Dr. _Sweets."

Sweets swallowed, slightly intimidated by the agent.

"What do you want? I'm kinda busy here." Booth motioned to the stack of paperwork he hadn't even touched yet.

"How was your date with Dr. Brennan last night?" Sweets asked, stepping into Booth's office and taking a seat in the corner chair.

"It wasn't a date, Sweets. It was just two partners having dinner together."

"I heard you went to that new French place that just opened. Pricy. That sounds like a fancy place to have dinner with a colleague. Would you take me to a restaurant of that high-caliber?"

"Are you asking me out on a date?" Booth laughed. "If you are, I've gotta say no; you're not my type."

Sweets smiled smugly. "You're using humor to avoid answering the question."

Booth's face lost all sign of amusement. "I didn't ask to be psycho-analyzed, so knock it off."

"So whether it was a date or not—."

"It wasn't."

"How did the evening go?"

"That is none of your business."

"It's totally my business. I'm your psychologist. My job is to assess your partnership with Dr. Brennan. This date—."

"Not a date," Booth emphasized once again.

Sweets nodded. "This dinner between colleagues could affect your partnership. That makes it my business, Agent Booth."

Booth stood up and grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair. He walked around his desk and padded across his office. He clapped Sweets on the back and slipped through the doorway, turning to face the kid shrink. "Nice chatting with you, Sweets, but I've got more important things to do." With that, he headed down the hallway and over to the elevator.

* * *

**_Want more? _**


	2. Chapter 2

**_Thanks for the reviews and alerts._**

**_Here's the second chapter. Hope you like :)_**

* * *

After leaving the Hoover, Booth decided to take a walk to clear his head. Leaving his SUV parked by the Mall, he gave up control and let his legs carry him in whatever direction they wanted him to go. He was a big believer in fate and subliminal messages from the universe, so after passing by the third floral shop, he paused and took a few steps back. Now standing in front of the large display window, he peered through the glass.

The door opened and a petite red-haired woman stepped out of the store. She looked at the man and smiled. He seemed like a nice man, looking to buy something special for his love or maybe a date, but she could tell he needed an extra push. "We're having a sale, sir. All arrangements are 50% off with the purchase of a stuffed animal, and a fraction of the proceeds will go to one of the orphanages in the area."

He turned his head and looked at the woman. "Oh, I'm not—."

The woman proceeded to water the flowers out front, studying the man with curiosity and amusement. "Can I help you with anything?"

He shook his head. "No, thanks."

"If you change your mind, you know where to find me," she said and then disappeared inside the store.

He watched her through the window and shrugged, deciding it didn't hurt to take a look around. He pulled open the door, a bell signaling his entrance into the store.

When she heard the bell, the woman, who was now behind the counter, looked up from the bouquet she was arranging. Seeing the man from outside, she smiled. "Are you looking for anything in particular? We have a great selection of roses."

"She likes daffodils and daisies," he said, the words just popping out. _What? _"I mean, no, I'm just looking."

"Well, look around. Let me know if you need any help. I'm Marcy, by the way."

He nodded. Even though he had no business being in there, he couldn't make himself leave. _You said you wanted to prove to her how much you l—care about her, didn't you? I doubt those pricks she has a habit of dating have ever sent her flowers. Every woman loves flowers, right? But Bones is different. She's not like every other woman. That's why you love her. _"Would you shut up already? I don't love Bones."

The woman looked up, startled. "Excuse me?"

He swallowed. "Uh, nothing." _I have got to get out of here. _He turned and headed for the door.

"Have a nice day, sir."

He nodded and practically ran from the store.

* * *

Booth had gone back to his office after his impromptu walk around D.C. earlier that afternoon and burned through the paperwork he kept putting off and putting off. With nothing else requiring his time, he left work early. His plan was to head home, shower, and put on some sweats and a t-shirt. Once comfy, he would crack open a cold beer, sit in front of the television, and flip through the channels until he found something remotely interesting. Instead, though, he wound up back in front of that floral shop. It was just his luck, too, that the same woman he met on his first visit was outside.

"You're back," Marcy exclaimed, wiping her dirty, gloved hands on her apron.

"So are you."

"Oh, I never leave. This is my baby. I live up there," she pointed to the apartment above the store. "Go on inside, I'll just be another minute. Josie's in the back if you have any pressing questions."

He nodded and walked through the open door leading into the shop, getting hit by a potent cloud of sweet-smelling perfume. Unlike earlier, he took the time to check out the selection.

"Are you interested in our promotion?" Marcy asked when she entered the store.

He turned and raised an eyebrow. "Promotion?"

"Yeah. 50% off all arrangements with the purchase of a stuffed animal."

"Oh, right, uh, maybe."

"You said your wife liked daffodils and daisies, right?"

"She's not my wife," he was quick to correct.

"Your girlfriend, my mistake."

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Date?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Well, she's a very lucky woman then." She smiled and went behind the counter.

"Do you think flowers would send her the wrong message?" He didn't know why, but he liked this woman and felt he could talk to her about this.

She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and brushed her hair out of her face. "Depends. What message are you trying to send her?"

"We work together, we're partners. We've got to be 100% on our game or people get hurt. She was recently, uh, dumped, and she seems a little," he swallowed, "down right now. She means a lot to me. We're friends, maybe even best friends. I want her to know someone cares."

She nodded. "And that someone is you."

"Yeah. So now that you know what I'm trying to say, would getting her flowers send her the wrong message? You know, would she think, um, I have _feelings_ for her?"

"Is she the kind of person to find hidden meanings in everything?"

He shook his head. "No, she's a literal person. She pretty much takes things at face value."

"Then I'd say you're safe, but for what it's worth, I don't buy that you don't have those kinds of feelings for her."

He glared at the woman. "Who asked you?"

"No one, just putting my two scents in." She shrugged. "Why don't you go check out the collection of stuffed animals and I'll go get started on your arrangement."

"But I didn't tell you what I wanted or if I even wanted anything."

"You said she likes daffodils and daisies and this is your second time in this store today, so you're obviously here for a reason. I'll be in the back. Call if you need anything." Before he had a chance to offer up a rebuttal, she was already gone.

He sighed and trekked over to the rack of stuffed animals. The store had everything from traditional teddy bears to scarily realistic plush bunnies to weird stuffed lizard-like things. As he browsed, one in particular caught his eye. He didn't expect to find it since it wasn't a common stuffed animal. He picked it up and held it in his hands.

"Interesting choice. I figured you'd choose a teddy bear."

He whipped around and saw Marcy smiling at him. He swallowed, glancing down at the stuffed animal. "She likes pigs."

"My niece loves them; that's why I carry them in the store." She paused. "You're going to participate in the promotion, then?"

He shrugged. "I guess so." He padded over to the counter and placed the pig down.

"Josie's just finishing up. Now, let's talk messages."

He was about to object and tell her that he didn't have unpartnerly feelings for his partner, but then she held up a small card and a pen. He shook his head at his own stupidity and nodded.

"How is your handwriting?"

"It's pretty good, people can read it."

She handed him the card and pen and smiled. "Put it in this envelope when you're done."

He took the pen and stared at the blank card. He had no idea what to write. Maybe he'd just send the flowers and call it a day. _Then how would she know they were from you, genius? I'll just deliver them myself. Yeah, because that doesn't send the wrong message, Pal. I really have got to stop talking to myself. _Shaking his head, he gripped the pen tightly and let out a breath. It took him a while, but he finally found something to say and took the time to write it legibly.

Marcy emerged from the back with the arrangement and took the card from him, placing it inside. She adjusted the ribbon around the vase and placed the pig in a small box. She moved to the register and punched in the numbers. "Your total is $82.63, but since I like you, I'll drop it down to $75."

He blinked and handed over his credit card. After he signed the receipt and pocketed the customer-copy, he looked at Marcy. "Can you deliver this to the Jeffersonian Institute?"

"Sure can. What is the recipient's name?" she asked, making a small note.

"Temperance Brennan."

She smiled. "Let me know how she likes the flowers."

"I will." _  
_

"Have a nice day. We do arrangements for weddings too," she called to him as he walked through the door.


	3. Chapter 3

Brennan was in her office, looking over her findings from their previous case. She just wanted to make sure everything was correct and complete before she signed off on the information and handed it over to Booth.

A small smile graced her lips as she thought about her partner. She didn't want to admit it, but last night had been one of the best nights she had experienced in a while. It was simply a dinner with a friend, but she had forgotten about why she was out with her partner in the first place, at least for a little while.

They discussed the case briefly, but quickly moved onto talking about different topics. He told a plethora of jokes; some she even thought were quite amusing, and butchered the French on the menu, which, for some reason she still couldn't figure out, had made her smile. They had talked about their weekend plans and somehow she got roped into spending time with him and Parker on Saturday. Despite her many, many protests, he wouldn't take no for an answer.

At one point, she had looked around the restaurant at the seemingly happy couples conversing over a shared meal and her mind went back to Mark and Jason. While she didn't have strong feelings for either man, getting rejected never felt good. Her partner had apparently picked up on her sadness because he offered up some more personal information about his particularly difficult breakup with Rebecca. After a brief, but tension-filled silence, he had stuffed two whole rolls in his mouth and flashed her a grin. She had tried hard not to draw attention to his juvenile behavior, but she couldn't help but laugh. The cloud of hurt and sadness had been lifted, making her temporarily forget about her recent disastrous attempt at monogamy.

The dinner had proceeded as all of their others had, though this one felt different. She didn't know why, but it did. Conversation was as easy as it always had been and they had still bickered. First about him pulling out her chair, then about how to pronounce the waiter's name, then about the wine choice, then about the appetizer, then about her plan to spend the weekend in Limbo, and then finally who would pay the bill; they ended up splitting the check, since they each refused to back down.

Perhaps the reason it had felt different was because she was a little overdressed for the occasion; she was dressed for a date, not a casual dinner with her partner. Maybe it was because of the location; the French restaurant was more expensive and it offered a fancier atmosphere than the Royal Diner or Founding Fathers. It could have also been because Booth had kissed her on the cheek before she disappeared inside her apartment at the end of the night; his lips had practically seared her skin and it had made her stomach flutter with irrational excitement. They had shared an awkward goodnight and then she shut the door.

* * *

Brennan signed her name in the appropriate places and shut the file. She hadn't heard from Booth since last night, but she wasn't expecting to. There was no active case and aside from the paperwork, they had no real reason to see or talk to each other. She looked at the door when she heard the knock and motioned for Angela to come in. "Hello, Angela."

Angela pulled out the chair in front of the anthropologist's desk and sat down. "I can't believe you didn't tell me you went on a date with Booth last night. I need details now, Sweetie," she said, without missing a beat.

Brennan scrunched up her face. "It wasn't a date. We're just partners."

"So I've heard," Angela muttered. "What happened to Mark and Jason?"

Sighing, Brennan fiddled with her pen. "They dumped me." She paused. "Booth felt sorry for me, so he offered to take me out for a discounted Chinese dinner. I was more in the mood for Thai, but we ended up going to this new French restaurant. We were certainly dressed for that atmosphere, so we didn't seem so out of place amongst actual romantic couples. The food was very good. I would recommend it."

"You and Booth had dinner at a fancy French restaurant, dressed like you were going on a date, but it wasn't a date?"

"I had a previous engagement scheduled with Mark, but he dumped me and then we got called into Sweets' office. I didn't have time to go home and change out of my dress. Booth was dressed like he's always dressed for work." Brennan shook her head. "It wasn't a date."

Angela sat forward. "Did he compliment your outfit?"

"Yes."

Smiling, Angela continued her mini-interrogation. "Did he open your car door for you?"

"He was going to, but I beat him to it."

"Did he pull your chair out for you?"

Brennan grumbled. "Yes and it was highly unnecessary."

"Did he pay for dinner?"

Brennan shook her head. "He offered to, but it was rather expensive. We split the bill."

"Did he kiss you goodnight?"

Brennan blushed.

Angela gasped. "Brennan! Booth kissed you goodnight?"

"Not like that, Ange. He kissed me on the cheek. It was very awkward and I think he was embarrassed."

Angela sighed, disappointed. "Promise me that you'll let me know ahead of time the next time you decide to go on a date with Booth, so I can pick out an outfit for you that will really knock those stripy socks off his feet."

"It was not a date, Angela," Brennan protested, quickly becoming frustrated with her best friend.

"It was totally a date, Sweetie." Angela stood up and walked towards the door, only to stop and turn to face Brennan again before she reached it. "Did you have a good time?"

"Of course. I always have a good time with Booth."

Somewhat satisfied with that answer, Angela turned and walked through Brennan's office doorway. "I wish those two would just wake up and smell the ros—," she stopped short, watching a young, but undeniably attractive delivery man heading straight for her with a bouquet of what looked like daffodils and daisies. "Pretty." She headed back into her best friend's office and smiled. "I think you have a secret admirer, Sweetie."

Brennan lifted her head. "I don't know what that means."

"It's kind of obvious, Bren."

"Why would you say that I have—oh." Brennan eyed the delivery man now standing in her doorway, focusing on the floral arrangement he was having some difficulty carrying.

The man looked up, his dark brown eyes looking between the two women. "Temperance Brennan?"

Brennan rose from her chair and stepped around her desk, nodding. "I'm Temperance Brennan. Are those for me?" she asked, surprised. She was about to take the pen from the man to sign for the flowers, but she paused and looked at her friend. "Check to see if there's a card. These could just be from a fan, in which case I will not be accepting these flowers."

Angela was quick to snatch the card from inside and open it.

"Who're they from?" Brennan glanced from her best friend to the impatient delivery man and then back to the artist.

Angela read the name and then read it again before giving Brennan a confused look. "Some guy named Jasper. Who's Jasper?"


	4. Chapter 4

With two sets of eyes on her, Brennan shrugged. "I don't know anyone by that name." She took the small card from Angela and read it herself. "Perhaps I should get this to Booth. Whoever this Jasper is, he's most likely harmless, but Booth will overreact and insist on finding more information about him."

Angela looked at the flowers on the coffee table and back to her best friend. "Sweetie, this guy just asked you on a date. I know I encouraged you to try that online dating site a few years ago, but are you actually considering going out with him?"

"Of course not." Brennan picked up the flowers and small gift box and walked back over to the delivery man, whose nametag read Jimmy. "I will not be signing for these."

"Sorry, Miss, but I can't take 'em back, says so right here," he explained, pointing to the fine print on the delivery slip. "I've got other deliveries, so if you can just sign for the flowers, that'd be great."

Brennan squinted and read the disclaimer. She sighed and quickly signed for the floral arrangement.

Jimmy handed Brennan a copy of the receipt and smiled. "Have a nice day, ladies. Enjoy the flowers." He waved and left the office, adjusting his hat and tucking the clipboard under his arm.

* * *

Brennan adjusted her hold on the vase and then set it back down on the coffee table. She stared at the daffodils and daisies and couldn't help but reach out and brush her thumb against one of each of their petals. "They're quite beautiful, though they aren't likely to last very long," she said, somewhat in a trance.

"Sweetie? Earth to Brennan." Angela waved her hand in her best friend's face, trying to get her attention.

Brennan blinked and tore her eyes away from the floral arrangement. "Jasper seems to have done his research. He knew my favorite flowers."

"He's a crazy fan. Do not underestimate a fan when it comes to his idol. He probably knows everything about you."

"That's frightening." Brennan sat down and picked up the gift box, setting it in her lap.

"What are you doing? Don't open that. It could be a severed finger or a torn off ear or something," Angela shuttered.

Ignoring the artist's protests, Brennan took off the lid and peered inside. It definitely was neither a finger nor an ear. She reached in slowly and lifted the stuffed pig out. She stared at it and its big, blue glass eyes stared back at her.

"See? He even knows you like pigs."

Brennan grabbed the small card and scanned it, studying the handwriting more carefully. She swallowed and shook her head, glancing back and forth between the flowers, the pig, and the note. She frowned, a deep wrinkle appearing between her eyebrows.

"Bren? What's wrong?"

Clearing her throat, Brennan set the pig back in the box and closed the lid, pushing it away. "Nothing. I have work to do." She stood and walked over to her desk. She grabbed her lab coat and put in on as she left her office, leaving a confused Angela behind.

* * *

On Thursday morning, Brennan walked through the sliding glass doors leading into the lab. It was still early, the sun just starting to rise, but she was looking forward to getting to work. She planned on spending the rest of the day in Limbo unless, of course, Booth stopped by with a new case. She hadn't seen Booth in a couple days and she was beginning to think he was avoiding her. She didn't know why, though, and it was more logical to assume he was busy. He did have other work to do that didn't relate to what they did together, as did she.

"Good morning, Dr. Brennan," Todd, the security guard near the main entrance, greeted her, a friendly smile on his face.

Brennan nodded, offering a small wave. "Good morning."

"Oh, this is for you," he handed over an envelope and resumed his position by the wall.

She took the envelope cautiously and held it up, attempting to use the light to see through it. Unfortunately, whatever was inside was too thick, so she couldn't make anything out. "Who gave this to you?"

He shrugged. "I found it on my desk this morning, Dr. Brennan. There was a post-it note attached that said to give it to you when you came in today."

"Was there a name?"

He thought about it and then nodded. "Yeah, you know what, there was. Jasper, I think. Hope that helps."

"It does, thank you." She stared at the envelope for a few seconds and then headed towards her office.

* * *

Once she entered her office, Brennan shrugged off her messenger bag and sat down at her desk. She held the envelope by the bottom edge and meticulously ripped it open. She removed the card from inside and unfolded it. She was almost afraid to read it since the last time she received a card from 'Jasper', he asked her out to dinner. She swallowed and scanned the short message. _You're beautiful. I hope you have a great day. Looking forward to tomorrow night—Jasper. _The last bit, she observed, was crossed out and rewritten a few times. The first, however, was dark and written with a sure hand. She read the words again and her gaze automatically shifted over to the flowers still sitting on her coffee table.

Setting the card on top of the envelope, she swallowed. She shrugged and turned her focus to her computer. She had a few emails to send and replay to before she headed down to Limbo.

* * *

Halfway through her morning, Brennan was interrupted by Angela. She continued to lay out the bones, ignoring the artist's presence for as long as she could. She sighed as she set down the right femur and glanced over at her best friend. "What, Ange? I'm very busy."

Angela approached the exam table and leaned slightly into it, careful not to rest her hands on the edge. "Did Jasper send you anything else?"

Brennan thought about lying, not in the mood to get into this with Angela at the moment, but she knew the other woman would be able to tell. She sighed and went about laying out the rest of the bones. "Yes. Todd handed me an envelope when I arrived at the lab."

Angela waited for Brennan to continue, but when the anthropologist didn't, she prompted her. "Well?"

"Well, what?" Brennan asked, glancing up briefly.

"What did the card say?"

"Why do you assume it was a card? It could have been money, or a small figurine, or—"

"So it wasn't a card?"

"No, it was."

Angela groaned; her best friend could be so frustrating sometimes. "Well, what did it say?"

"He said I was beautiful and that he hoped I had a great day. He also expressed that he was looking forward to dinner tomorrow night."

"Bren, you should tell Booth what's been going on."

"I can handle it myself, Angela. I will meet Jasper at the restaurant tomorrow night at seven, give him an autograph if he wishes, and then warn him if he doesn't stop sending me gifts and written notes, he'll be arrested for stalking. He's harmless, Ange."

"Yes, just like the last guy who sent you a package in the mail?"

Brennan paused but a second later, began again. "I'll be fine."

After a long minute, which passed by in silence, Angela narrowed her eyes. "You know who Jasper is, don't you?"

Brennan didn't answer, just started laying out the victim's left hand.

Angela pushed away from the table and crossed her arms over her chest. "Brennan, answer me."

Brennan glanced up and shook her head. "I don't know who Jasper is."

"Liar," Angela muttered with a knowing smile. "Who is it?"

"Ange, I don't know."

"Did you meet someone online? Or maybe at that organic food market near your apartment? Is he handsome?"

Brennan rolled her eyes. "I didn't meet anyone, Angela. I really have no idea who Jasper is."

"Maybe not, but you've got your suspicions. You just don't want to say it out loud because you don't have all the facts yet."

"That's ridiculous, Angela."

"Is it?"

Brennan sighed. "I have work to do. I'll have the tissue markers placed soon, so you can do the reconstruction."

"You're not getting off that easy." Angela turned and walked towards the exit.

After a brief pause, Brennan swallowed. "Angela."

The artist spun back around. "What is it, Sweetie?" she asked, seeing the slight panic and confusion all over her best friend's face.

"You see Sweets as your friend, correct?"

"Oh God, please tell me Sweets isn't Jasper."

Brennan shook her head. "No, he's not."

Angela exhaled. "Thank God."

"Is he your friend?"

Angela shrugged. "I guess. Why are you asking me that?"

Brennan sighed. "If Sweets sent you your favorite flowers for no obvious reason, asked you to accompany him to dinner, and told you that you were beautiful, what would that mean?"

"You're sure Sweets isn't Jasper?"

"Just answer the question," Brennan pleaded.

"Even without context, I'd say it would mean that he possibly liked me as more than a friend."

Brennan nodded, glancing down at the partially laid out skeleton, and adjusted the position of the right radius, even though it wasn't out of place.

Angela's face lit up, her eyes twinkling at the sudden realization. "Booth's Jasper, isn't he?" Her best friend's silence was the only answer she needed.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Glad you guys like this so far :)_**

**_ Enjoy!_**

* * *

Booth sat at his desk, staring at his phone. He hadn't spoken to Brennan since Tuesday night, mostly because he was busy, but also because he knew that if he saw her or even just talked to her, he'd give away the secret. He realized when he got home the other day that he could have very well already blown his cover by signing the note himself, but the more he thought about it, the more he wanted her to figure it out.

He thought about calling her to ask if she got the flowers. He was dying to know if she liked them, if she suspected he was Jasper, and if she did suspect, what she was thinking. He debated whether or not to give her that second note, but when he finally decided to do it, he had struggled writing it. He didn't want to sound too eager, since he didn't know if she'd actually agree to go on a date with a stranger or with him if she knew. _Not a date, just dinner, _he corrected silently. _Yeah, just keep telling yourself that. _"Shut up," he muttered.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. He had just leaned back in his chair when his phone beeped and vibrated. The unexpected sound caused him to spring up and his eyes to pop open. He was embarrassed that he, as an ex-Army Ranger and current decorated Special Agent with the FBI, got spooked by a damn ringtone, but he quickly recovered and reached for his phone. He flipped it open and saw that it was a text from Angela. Afraid that something might have happened to Brennan, he quickly opened the message. He read it to himself a few times, not at all sure what it meant. "'She'll be there'. Who? Where?" After the fifth time reading the words on the screen, it hit him. "She knows. They both know." He let out a breath and swallowed. _Oh, God, I'm going on a date with Bones tomorrow night._ _Not a da—oh who am I kidding? It's a date. _Swallowing, he shook his head.

He dropped his phone back on his desk and slumped, resting his head on his arms.

* * *

Booth sensed someone at his door, but he kept staring out the window. "Now's not a good time, Sweets."

Sweets blinked. "If it's not a good time, then it's a perfect time. Let's talk."

Booth pushed himself up and glared at the kid. "Take your shrinky talk somewhere else."

"Did you have a fight with Dr. Brennan? Because if so, that's something we should discuss. That could definitely affect your partnership."

"Bones and I are fine; our partnership has never been better, so lay off."

"I think we should talk about where this hostility—."

"Get out."

Ignoring Booth's command, Sweets pushed onward. "Maybe it stems from sexual frustration. When is the last time you—?"

Booth held up his hand. "I am NOT discussing that with you."

"Maybe it stems from your feelings for Dr. Brennan."

Booth swallowed. "I do not have _feelings_ for Bones. We're partners, okay? We work together. We're friends. Now get out before I throw you out." He paused. "And for your information, not that it's any of your business, I have a date tomorrow night."

"Anyone I know?"

"No."

"So I do know her—or him?"

"Her," Booth stressed.

"Does Dr. Brennan know?"

"We're partners, Sweets. We don't talk about everything."

"You two seemed to be comfortable discussing Dr. Brennan's personal life the other day."

"Yeah, well, I was trying to make her feel better."

"Her feelings are important to you, aren't they, Agent Booth?"

Booth shook his head. "Uh-uh. I'm not falling into that trap, Pal. Don't you have something better to do other than harass me?"

Sweets looked like he was about to say something else, but the glare from the agent made him bite his tongue. He turned around and left the office, forgetting what he came in there for in the first place.

Booth sighed and went back to staring out the window.

* * *

Booth was getting ready to leave for the day and was looking forward to going home and crashing on the couch with a cold beer and some takeout pizza. He was just about finished when someone knocked on his door. He growled, not in the mood to deal with Sweets again. "Sweets—."

"Not Sweets, not even close, Big Guy." Cam stepped into the office and shut the door behind her. "Or should I call you Jasper?"

He blinked. "You know too?"

"So it's true," she said, no hint of question in her voice. "I guess that means I can believe the rumor about how you're taking Dr. Brennan on a date tomorrow night."

"Angela has a big mouth," he grumbled. "And it's not—."

She shook her head. "Don't even try that on me, Seeley. I've known you for fifteen years. I know when you're lying."

He sighed. "Why are you here, Camille?"

"I want to make sure you know what you're doing."

"I know what I'm doing."

She raised an eyebrow. "Do you? Because from where I'm standing, it sounds like you're still trying to convince yourself that you and Brennan are _just_ partners."

He was silent as he lowered himself into his desk chair and tapped on his bobble head.

Cam took a seat opposite the desk and watched a dozen emotions cross over her friend's face. "It's just you and me, Seeley. What's going on?"

"You didn't see her face when she was talking about being kicked to the curb by those lowlifes. She just—she deserves so much more than she gets. She's smart, beautiful, funny—in her own way—and she cares so much. She doesn't even know how amazing she is; she doesn't think she's capable of loving someone or capable of someone loving her for the rest of her life and that's just—it's sad, Cam, it's really," he paused, censoring himself, "sad."

"I don't think she's the only who feels unworthy."

He sighed. "I wanted her to feel special for once, you know?" He shook his head. "It sounded like a good idea at first, but it's stupid. I should just call her and tell her to forget about dinner."

"It's too late for that; you already opened that door. You need think about what you really want, Seeley, because if you go through with this and change your mind, you'll be showing her that maybe she's been right all along; that she really is incapable of love, both giving and receiving it."

"Don't say that."

"You know what you want; you're just afraid to go after it."

"I care about her—."

She shook her head, cutting him off before he said anything more. "First step is saying what you actually mean."

"I don't love Bones."

"Who said anything about love?" She smirked, standing up. "I just came by to clear up some of the rumors going around the Jeffersonian." She walked to the door and reached for the handle, but stopped, turning back to face him. "You deserve to be happy. Just remember that." She let out a breath and left the office.

He swallowed and glanced down at his cell phone, realizing he never replied to Angela's text from earlier. _You always finish what you start. Don't give up now. Go after what you want. But what do I want? You know. You've always known. Don't be afraid. If she runs, chase after her. You're good at that; you've been chasing her since the beginning. _"Yeah." Picking up the phone, he clicked reply and typed in his message, pressing send before he could change his mind.


	6. Chapter 6

Angela followed Brennan down the hallway and into the woman's restroom. "C'mon, Sweetie."

Brennan whipped around and narrowed her eyes. "No. It is unnecessary and illogical for me to go shopping for something new when I already have acceptable clothing in my closet at home. I have much more practical and important uses for my money than to spend it on my wardrobe."

Angela's eyes twinkled and she smiled. "So you'll go? On a date with Booth, I mean?" she asked, unable to disguise the eagerness in her voice.

"I never said I would go and it's not a date, Ange; it's two friends going to dinner, nothing more." Brennan pulled one of the stall doors open and disappeared behind it.

Angela leaned back against the counter and groaned. "You're no fun, Bren." She paused. "And it _is_ a date."

"It is not!"

"Keep telling yourself that, Sweetie. Whether you want to acknowledge it or not, Booth asked you out on a date. This isn't just two friends going to dinner or two work partners meeting some place for a shared meal. This is a date. 'A candlelight, flowers, expensive wine, good conversation, delicious food, a goodnight kiss, and maybe even a romp between the sheets if the dinner goes well or to salvage a horrible evening' kind of date."

"Angela!" Brennan emerged from the stall and walked up to the sink counter. Flipping on the faucet, she washed her hands, ignoring her best friend.

"Give me one good reason why you're not going to go."

"I have work."

"Bullshit, Brennan."

Brennan gasped, drying her hands.

"I'm not buying it. You work too much, Bren. It's time to live a little. When a handsome hunk asks you out on a date, you go. That's the most sensible thing to do."

"Where's your evidence that supports you conclusion?" Brennan tossed the crumpled paper towel in the trash and made to exit the restroom, but Angela jumped in front of the door before she had a chance to pull it open. "Move, Angela. I have to get back to work."

"Oh, no, you don't. You're not leaving this room until you agree to at least _consider_ going on a date with Booth."

Crossing her arms over her chest, Brennan pouted. "It's not a date."

"What's the big deal?"

"If I recall correctly, you had a hard time accepting a date with Hodgins and in light of recent events, it seems as if you were correct to hesitate."

"We're not talking about Hodgins and me, Sweetie. This is about you and Booth. It's totally different."

"I don't see how."

"It just is, okay? Trust me on this." Angela shifted her hips and sighed. She was about to speak again, but her phone vibrated in her lab coat pocket. Pulling the device out, she glanced down at the display. "Speaking of the Stud," she smirked and opened the message.

Brennan stared at Angela. "Who? Booth? Do we have a case? Why would he text you and not me?" She reached for the phone, but Angela tucked it back in her pocket and shook her head.

"You have an hour. Then you and I," she motioned back and forth between them, "are going shopping."

"What did the text say?"

"I'll tell you if you come shopping with me and agree to go on this date with Booth."

"It's not a date!" Brennan was beyond frustrated. _Why can't Angela understand that this is not a date? Because it is, genius. _She blinked, that voice sounded suspiciously like Booth, which was impossible since it was _her_ subconscious thought.

"He says otherwise."

Brennan's eyes widened. "What? Let me see that text. Why did Booth text you?"

"I don't know."

"Angela."

"So what store do you want to hit up first?"

Brennan grunted. "Fine, I'll go shopping with you, but I'm agreeing to purchase anything. Now show me the text."

"Will you go on a date with Booth?"

"Yes. Are you happy now?"

"Very." Angela removed her phone from her pocket and pulled up the text, holding it up for Brennan to read.

Brennan stepped closer and reached out for the phone, angling it in such a way that was easier to read. "Make sure she's ready by 7 and tell her Jasper's looking forward to their date," she read out loud. She rocked back onto her heels and blinked, shaking her head. "No, it has to be some kind of mistake, Angela. Booth wouldn't—we're partners."

Angela slowly lowered the phone and dropped it back in her pocket. That was not the reaction she was hoping for. "Sweetie?"

"Why would he do this?"

"He likes you, Bren."

"Of course he likes me, Angela. We're friends."

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

"But we're partners."

"So? There are different definitions for that word, you know."

Brennan shook her head. "I have to get back to work." She made it past Angela and yanked open the door. She fled the bathroom and headed straight for her office.

"This is _not_ good." Angela pulled out her phone and quickly sent a text, _S.O.S_, before turning around and following her best friend.

* * *

**_Uh-oh ;)_**


	7. Chapter 7

Booth walked into his apartment and shut the door, turning the lock. He tucked his gun away in the safe and shred his coat, draping it and his suit jacket on the back of the chair. Whistling, he made his way into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the refrigerator. As he settled on the couch, he remembered that his phone had rung, indicating he had an incoming text, when he was driving home. Placing his beer on the coffee table, he half stood and reached into his pocket, pulling out the device. He flipped it open with one flick of his thumb and opened the text message. "S.O.S?" He blinked, only thing coming to mind: _Bones. _

Rather than keep texting, he decided to just call Angela; it would be quicker. He tapped his foot as the phone rang and rang and rang and he was about to hang up when Angela answered. "Angela, what's wrong? Is Bones okay?"

_"Slow down, Booth. Bren is fine, at least physically."_

"That's not reassuring. What's wrong?"

_"She freaked out."_

Booth sighed. "Okay, I don't know what the Hell you're talking about, Angela, so you better spell it out right now."

_"She read your text."_

He slumped forward, understanding what the artist wasn't saying. "Is she okay?"

_"She's locked herself in her office. I have a key and I was on my way to get it when you called."_

"What does that mean?"

_"It means you better find a way to convince her to go on this date with you tomorrow night. I'm not going to let you two knuckleheads ruin this for me."_

"For you?"

_"Just think of something, Booth. She wants to go, I can tell. The first thing she did when she got into her office was look longingly at the flowers you sent her. Good job with those, by the way."_

"Did she like them? I wasn't sure if that was too much. The florist lady said it was the right thing to do."

_"And the pig too, nice touch."_

He smiled. "She likes pigs."

_"Anyway. She's scared and confused. You're changing your dynamic and she doesn't know why. She understands the significance of sending flowers and gifts and love letters—because let's be honest, here, Booth, that's what they were—but she just doesn't understand why __**you**__ would be doing any of those things."_

"I was just trying to be nice."

_"Yeah, that is a little more than just being nice, Booth. If that was your main goal, you'd have skipped the flowers and the pig and the asking her out on a date bit and just sent her a text or stopped by to say 'hey, how's it going?' You went above and beyond and you and I both know the __**real**__ reason you did it."_

He sighed. Sometimes he hated how "normal" Angela was compared to the rest of the squints; she could see right through his bullshit. "This was a bad idea. I should have just called her or stopped by her place with Thai."

_"Oh, no, you're not backing out of this."_

He shook his head. "I have no plans to, Ange."

_"Good. Now...Brennan."_

He grabbed his beer and swallowed a big gulp before leaning back. "Can't you just talk to her?"

_"I tried."_

"Okay, give me some time to think."

_"You got it. Maybe she'll still go shopping with me. What's this date going to be like? Formal? Semi-formal? Casual? Dressy casual?"_

"Uh, I guess dressy casual? Not fancy, but not casual."

_"Somewhere in the middle. Gotcha. I'll make sure Bren looks hot for you, Booth. Trust me. She'll knock you on your ass when you see her."_

"I don't doubt that," he mused out loud, a smile on his face. _Bones looks good no matter what she wears. She even looks good in that damn jumpsuit. She's beautiful. She's—_He shook his head. _Don't go there, Pal. _"I don't care what she's wearing, Angela. I just care that she shows up." After goodbyes were exchanged, he hung up and downed the rest of his beer in one go. He cradled his head and stared at his blank television set. "I freaked her out. Damn it. I knew this was a bad idea." _You said if she ran, you'd chase her, so you better put on your sneakers then, Bub. _"I need another beer." He pushed himself up to his feet and disappeared into the kitchen.

* * *

Brennan arrived at her office promptly at seven the next morning. She strolled past security and walked through the lab. Unlocking the door, she entered her office and headed for the coat rack. Her feet were still sore from the amount of walking she had done the night before and she barely got any sleep. Angela had dragged her to the mall, not giving her any room to argue. All of the dresses she tried on were beautiful, but she didn't feel very comfortable in any of them. Plus, she thought the whole endeavor was rather pointless since she already owned more than enough appropriate "date-night" outfits and she hadn't yet agreed to go and was still leaning towards not going.

She was more than a little confused. She had honestly thought Booth took her out Tuesday night because he felt sorry for her. Now, though, she was beginning to think he had other motivations.

She glanced at the flowers still sitting on her coffee table and found herself walking towards them. There were certainly an infinite number of reasons why someone would send flowers—congratulations, get well wishes, friendship, courtship, anniversary, birthday, pregnancy, giving birth, death, just because. Out of that list, however, there were only three possibilities for why Booth would be sending her flowers. That coupled with the notes, the stuffed pig, and the text he had sent Angela, she could only conclude that his actions were not motivated solely by friendship or no reason at all—that terrified her and did nothing to quell her confusion.

She wasn't good with motives, so she could be completely wrong, but still, he had never sent her flowers before, whether they were meant to be something else besides a friendly gesture or not. Then something else came to mind. If Booth was just being friendly, he would have just signed his own name, wouldn't he have? He didn't, though, and that was one of the most puzzling things about the whole situation.

Shaking her head, she reached out and plucked one of the daisies from the vase. Water dripped on the coffee table as she brought the flower to her nose, breathing in its sweet scent. She lowered herself onto the couch and took another whiff. She thought about what Booth had said to her in Sweets' office that night. He had been so serious, so sure that there was someone out there for her, someone she was meant to spend the rest of her life with. Still, she was convinced all relationships were temporary; it was impossible not to believe that when presented with such damning evidence. Aside from her queue of broken relationships, there was Angela and Hodgins, Booth and Rebecca, and Booth and Cam.

Could she ignore all of that and accept this date with Booth, even though it was inevitable that whatever "this" was would be temporary? The consequences were great. She would most likely lose her best friend and her partner, for what, to satisfy biological urges? Was it worth it? Angela seemed to think so, Booth, as well.

She stared at the flowers again, smiling subconsciously. As she slipped the daisy back into the vase with the others, she heard a knock on her door. Turning, she saw Todd standing outside her office. On closer examination, she realized he was carrying an envelope. Despite her confusion, her heart rate sped up at the thought that it could be from Booth. She stood and walked to the door, pulling it open and greeted the security guard with a smile.

"Good morning, Dr. Brennan. I have strict orders to give this to you personally. The gentleman who gave it to me, though, wishes to remain anonymous." Todd handed over the envelope.

"Good morning, Todd," she said, taking the envelope from him. "Thank you." She went behind her desk and sat down in her chair. Exhaling, she carefully opened the envelope and pulled the piece of cardstock out. She unfolded it, and after tilting her head to see if Todd had gone back to his post, she read it aloud to herself. "I'll pick you up at your place at 6:30. I already have an after dinner activity in mind, but you can choose the restaurant. If it requires a reservation, make it for 7. See you then—Jasper." She placed the card down and found herself once again looking at the flowers.

* * *

Another knock on the door stole Brennan's focus away. She glanced in that direction and sighed, seeing Angela standing there.

Walking into the office, Angela said, "Look, Sweetie, I'm sorry I pushed so hard yesterday. It's just I see what you and Booth could have and it makes me sad that you two don't realize it yourselves or are too scared to go after it. You're letting the past control your future and that's not good, Bren. You're missing out on a lot because of that. I want you to be happy and I know you could be so happy with him. Just let go. If this date goes horribly wrong, you can drag me to one of the dry, Jeffersonian-sponsored lectures you love so much."

Brennan shook her head, skipping everything in the beginning and jumping right to the end. "They're not dry, Angela. Some of them are actually quite fascinating and all are very informative."

"Not the point, Brennan."

"He sent me another note."

Angela tried to hide her smile, but failed. She didn't need to be told who 'he' was; she knew. "Ooh, what'd it say?"

"He said he'd pick me up at my apartment at 6:30. He also has something planned for after dinner, but he was rather vague, so I have no idea what that something is."

"Where are you going to eat?"

"I don't know; he wants me to pick."

Angela beamed. "He's giving you some of the control, Sweetie; he wants you to feel comfortable with this." She sat down across from the desk and leaned forward. "What are you thinking?"

"If you knew that you and Hodgins wouldn't last when you first agreed to go out with him, would you still have said yes?"

Angela sighed. "No."

Brennan blinked.

"I wouldn't have, but do I regret the past two years? No, I don't. Everything Hodgins and I have gone through, all the good times and the bad, it was all worth it."

"It was?"

"Yeah, Sweetie, it was. I wouldn't change any of it." Angela paused. "Some relationships don't last, but many others do, Bren. Your and Booth's past relationships and everyone else's have nothing to do with you and him. Forget about everything else and focus on the relationship you've had with Booth for the last four years. Look at that to help you decide if it's worth taking that next step, but more than anything, do what _feels_ right. And please, stop letting your fear keep you from being happy."

Brennan swallowed.

Angela stood and headed for the door, knowing when her best friend needed some time alone to process everything. When she reached for the door handle, Brennan called out for her, causing her to pause and turn back towards the anthropologist. "Yes?"

"Why didn't Booth sign his own name?"

"Either he wanted to remind you of something special that was just between the two of you or he was just as afraid as you to admit that what he was feeling went beyond friendship. My guess is it's a little bit of both."

"He obviously knows that we know who "Jasper" is, so why is he continuing to use that name? It just doesn't make sense."

"Because that name means something to the two of you; it's special. I know you still don't get it, so just forget about the name, Bren. It's not about the name, it's about the message he's sending." Angela smiled and turned back to the door, pulling it open and leaving the office, making her way to her own.

Brennan leaned back and slid a little down in her chair. She sighed and closed her eyes.


	8. Chapter 8

Booth stood in front of his closet, staring at his wardrobe. A blue towel was wrapped around his waist, his torso was bare, and his hair was tousled and still a little damp from his shower. He subconsciously whisked away a droplet of water that made its way down his chest and took a step closer to his closet.

He was trying to decide whether to go traditional and wear a suit or go more causal and opt for dark jeans, a t-shirt, and a blazer. The bad thing about having Brennan choose the restaurant was he had no clue if they were going somewhere somewhat fancy or sticking to some place more comfortable like the diner. He couldn't go wrong with a suit, but then again, he wore a suit every day for work.

Throwing his hands up in the air in frustration, he decided to go somewhere in between the two. He grabbed black trousers and a black button-down shirt and laid them on the bed before moving to the dresser. Now dressed in boxers and his trademark striped socks, he pulled on his pants and slid into his shirt, buttoning it up, leaving the top two buttons open. After making sure the collar wasn't sticking up, he headed into the bathroom to fix his hair.

He returned to his bedroom and glanced at his vans for a brief second before he picked up his shiniest pair of dress shoes. Slipping them on, he stared at himself in the mirror. He fiddled with the buttons and tucked and untucked his shirt several times. _Relax. It's just Bones. Exactly, it's BONES! You're going on a date with Bones. Holy crap. What the Hell were you thinking? You can't do this. You're totally going to screw this up and then you'll probably lose her forever. Damn it. You don't even know if she said yes. The last time you spoke to Angela, she said Bones was freaking out. Oh, God, what have I done? _

He breathed out and wrung his hands together. _Snap out of it. You're not going to screw this up. It's Bones; she's your best friend. Just be you. _He nodded and looked at himself in the mirror. _Lookin' good. _Smiling, he grabbed his wallet and keys and walked quickly through his apartment before he could back out.

* * *

Booth paced back and forth in front of Brennan's door, pausing briefly to stare at it a few times. _You can do this. Just breathe and knock on the door. What the Hell is wrong with you? You're acting like a teenager on his first date. You've been out with Bones tons of times. Yeah, but not like this. _Stopping, he stepped closer to the door and raised his hand to knock, but it opened before his knuckles had a chance to make contact with the wood.

Angela smirked at him and stepped out into the hall, pulling the door shut behind her. "She's all yours." She brushed her hand against his arm as she passed him. "Have fun tonight, Jasper," she called, already heading for the elevator.

He blinked, not expecting Angela to be there, though he should have known the artist would insist on helping Brennan get ready. It was a good sign. If Angela was there, that had to mean Brennan was actually considering going on a date with him or had already agreed, didn't it? Realizing the time and suddenly getting a burst of confidence, he set his shoulders back and raised his hand, giving the door two strong knocks. When his knocks went unanswered after several minutes, he sighed. _I knew this was a bad idea. I'm such an idiot. _Shaking his head, he turned and started walking down the hallway.

"Where are you going?"

Booth whipped around at the sound of Brennan's voice and stumbled backwards, tripping over the flipped up corner of one of her neighbors' welcome mat. He swallowed. He knew he was staring, but he couldn't help it. She looked beautiful, not that he ever thought she didn't look beautiful.

Brennan stood awkwardly in front of her apartment, watching Booth. She had to bite her bottom lip to keep from laughing when he tripped over the mat. Subconsciously, she smoothed her hand down the front of her dress, tugging on the fabric.

He cleared his throat and swallowed again, his eyes taking in every inch of her. She was wearing a simple black dress with somewhat wide straps. It clung to her curves and hit her just above the knee, showing off her long, shapely legs. The neckline exposed a lot of her creamy skin and dipped low, emphasizing her cleavage. Finally able to take his eyes off her body, he looked at her face. Her hair was down, a bit of a natural-looking curl to it, and her makeup was light, drawing attention to her eyes. God, her eyes never looked so amazing, so mesmerizing.

"Are you going to stand there all night?"

Her voice brought him back. He shook his head and walked towards her. He stopped right in front of her and blinked, his breath catching. Seeing her from a distance was one thing, but seeing her up close was totally different. _Wow_. He cleared his throat and swallowed. "You look beautiful, Bones."

She smiled. "Thank you." She stepped back into her apartment and gave him a subtle onceover (or at least what she thought was subtle). He looked good, better than good. The black dress shirt was pulled taught over his very muscular torso, drawing attention to his well-defined bicep, tricep, pectoral, and trapezius muscles. The hint of smooth, tanned skin that was revealed by the two undone top buttons made her itch to reach out and touch it. Shaking her head at the absurdity of that thought, she moved downwards. His pants fit him perfectly and she could just imagine the crazy socks he was wearing. He was very handsome and she would be lying if she said she didn't find him sexually alluring.

"Like what you see?" he teased, breaking the tension that was quickly filling the air between the partners.

Her eyes snapped up to his and she smiled, suddenly shy.

"Can I come in? Or do you just want to head to the restaurant now?" he asked, when he realized they were still standing in her doorway.

She cleared her throat and nodded. "Yes."

"Yes, I can come in? Or yes, you just want to head to the restaurant?"

Her cheeks warmed when she realized she hadn't been clear. "You can come in; we have time."

He clapped, rubbing his hands together. "Great."

She stepped to the side, allowing him to walk inside. She paused, momentarily distracted by the way his ass looked in his trousers. Clearing her throat once more, she asked, "Do you want something to drink?"

"Beer would be great, thanks." He plopped himself down on the couch and twisted his body, so he could watch her walk into the kitchen.

She returned to the living room with two beers, handing him one before taking a seat in the chair. She tugged on the hem of her dress and shifted before taking a sip of the cold liquid.

He sighed in relief when he read the label. "Oh, Thank God, it's the real stuff."

"There's nothing wrong with trying different varieties of beer."

"I'm all for variety, Bones, but your kind tastes like cough syrup and wood. Now, this," he tipped his bottle, "is the good stuff, America at its finest."

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head and trying hard to suppress a smile.

He smiled at her, catching a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye. It was silent for a brief minute and then he asked a question he was dying to know the answer to, "Did you like the flowers?"

She swallowed a sip of beer and looked at him, lowering the bottle to her lap. "Yes, they were beautiful. Thank you." She smiled, thinking about the bouquet sitting on her coffee table at work, the one she looked at and smelled every time she entered her office.

"You're welcome." He glanced at his watch and downed the rest of his drink. "We should get going."

"Yes. Let me just grab my coat." She stood at the same time as him.

He took her empty bottle and went into the kitchen to recycle them. "Where are we going, by the way?"

"Founding Fathers," she answered, coming out of her bedroom.

"Really?"

She shrugged. "Yes, why not? It's a great restaurant."

"Yeah, I know, but we go there all the time."

"That's why I picked it." She slipped on her jacket and looked at him. "Is that a problem? We could go somewhere else."

He shook his head and stepped behind her, pulling her hair out from inside her jacket, fighting the urge to run his fingers through it. "No, no, Founding Fathers is great and I said you could pick."

"If you wanted me to choose a restaurant we don't frequent as often, you should have specified."

"Bones, really, it's fine. I like Founding Fathers. I was just expecting you to pick something new, that's all."

"Why? Is it because this is a social dinner as opposed to a working one?"

"Well, yeah."

"Oh. We can go somewhere else."

He shook his head and steered her towards the door. "It's fine. Let's just go."

"You're upset now."

"It's my fault. I should have been clearer what I meant."

She stopped and turned towards him. "This evening is important to you, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is."

"I'm no good at this. I already ruined it."

"Hey," he bumped up her chin with his thumb, "you didn't ruin anything. C'mon."

"Are you sure?"

He smiled, placing his hand on the small of her back. "Positive."

She nodded.

The two of them soon left her apartment and headed for the elevator, both nervous and unsure how the rest of the evening was going to turn out.

* * *

**_Thanks for reading and/or reviewing. I'm glad you like this story._**

**_The next chapter will be the last, except for an epilogue_**


	9. Chapter 9

**_Here's the date...hope you like it ;)_**

* * *

Booth and Brennan were tucked in a booth near the back of the restaurant, perusing the menu, even though they had been there many times before. She paused to take a sip of her wine and then glanced back at her menu. "Are you going to get a cheeseburger?" she finally asked, breaking the tension-filled silence.

"Eh, not sure, I'm leaning more towards steak." He paused. "What about you? Salad?"

"I eat more than just salads, Booth, but yes, actually, I'm thinking about the grilled vegetable salad."

"Whoa, really stepping out the box, huh, Bones?" He laughed, setting the menu aside and taking a swig of beer.

"And you are? Mr. 'I'm leaning more towards steak'?"

He smiled, but he was slightly surprised that she hadn't told him she didn't know what that meant. He decided, as much as he thought her cluelessness was charming and cute, he liked when she knew what he was saying more. "Well, I'm getting a side of veggies instead of mashed potatoes. That's new."

"You should be having a side of vegetables with your dinner daily, Booth." She paused. "You could get vegetables and mashed potatoes. You get two sides with your meal," she pointed out, closing her menu and placing it on top of his. "What are we doing after dinner? You alluded to some kind of activity."

"It's a secret. Let's just get through dinner first, 'kay?"

She nodded. "Can I get a hint?"

"We've done it before."

"That isn't much of a hint, Booth. We've done lots of things."

"Take it or leave it, Bones, because that's the only hint you get."

She grunted. "Will I enjoy this activity?"

"I hope so; I think you will; a lot of people enjoy it. Hey! No more hints."

She hid her smile behind her wine glass as she took another sip. "Is it sex?"

He choked on his beer, almost spitting it out. He coughed and swallowed a gulp of water. Clearing his throat, he shook his head, "No," he croaked, his voice still hoarse from his beer going down the wrong pipe.

She shrugged. "You said we've both done it before and a lot of people enjoy it."

"So you automatically jumped to sex? What kind of man do you think I am, Bones?"

"An attractive, healthy, and virile man."

He smirked, puffing out his chest a little. "All of that is true and I'm flattered, really, Bones, but I have morals too, you know. I don't just jump into bed with a woman on the first date."

"Well, if we count Tuesday night, this would technically be our second date," she stated matter-of-factly, with a half shrug of her shoulders.

At that moment, their waitress, Katie, decided to approach their table. _Thank God,_ Booth thought, letting out a relieved sigh. He wouldn't have lasted much longer with all that sex talk. "Are you two ready to order?"

Booth looked at Brennan and at her nod, he nodded too. "Yeah and when you get a chance, we'd like more bread."

Brennan shook her head. "We're good on bread." Turning to Booth, she said, "You shouldn't fill up on bread. You won't eat your dinner."

"Thanks, Mom," he muttered and looked at Katie. "Bring the bread, please," he mouthed.

Katie smiled, winking at him. "What can I get you, sir?"

"I'll have the original steak, medium-rare, with a side of grilled veggies and mashed potatoes."

Katie nodded, taking down his order before addressing Brennan. "And for you?"

"The grilled vegetable salad and for my two sides, I'll have a baked potato and onion strings, please."

Katie finished recording the order and then scooped up the menus. "Can I get you anything else?"

"No, we're fine, right, Booth?"

Booth nodded. "Right."

Katie slipped the notepad in the pocket of her apron and hugged the menus under her arm. "How long have you two been married?"

Brennan shook her head. "We're not married. Marriage is an antiquated ritual that—."

Booth kicked Brennan gently under the table and ignored the glare he received from her, looking at Katie. "We're not married."

"Oh, my mistake."

"This is our first date, not that it is any of your business," Brennan added.

"I didn't mean—I'll just go put your orders in." Katie smiled and quickly disappeared towards the kitchen.

"That hurt, Booth."

His face fell. "Sorry, I tried to be gentle. You just don't go around telling people that marriage is an antiquated ritual, Bones."

"Well, it is."

"Just keep those kinds of thoughts to yourself, okay?"

"My opinion is no less valid than yours, Booth."

He sighed. "That's not what I'm saying."

"I will not censor my beliefs just because they don't coincide with yours or what you deem as traditional or 'normal'. If you think that just because we're on a date, you can now control what I say or do, you're mistaken."

He reached across the table and took her hand in his. "Look, I'm sorry. If you want to tell the waitress what you think of marriage when she comes back to check on us, be my guest, I won't try and stop you."

She glanced at their joined hands and felt an odd warmth seep up her arm and travel throughout her body. Instead of pulling free, she linked their fingers together. "I accept your apology."

He smiled. "You do know I like that you have your own beliefs and opinions, right? I wouldn't want you to be anyone else, but you, Bones. Life would be pretty damn boring if we all thought the same way."

She nodded. "I agree."

"But there's also a time and place for saying stuff like that and in response to an innocent misunderstanding about our relationship during dinner in public is not that time or place." He took his hand back and finished the rest of his beer. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

"Your statement is rather hyperbolic, but I understand what you're saying. I, too, am very hungry. I skipped lunch."

He shook his head. "Of course you did. You gotta eat, Bones."

"I was," she casted her eyes downward, suddenly fascinated with a crack in the table top, "preoccupied."

"With what?"

Toying with her napkin, she looked up and met his gaze. "This."

"Can I ask you a question?"

She opened her mouth to say something, but he cut her off.

"Not including this one," he added with a smirk.

She nodded. "Yes."

"What made you say yes?"

"Why wouldn't I let you ask me a question?"

He laughed. "No, Bones, I mean, why did you decide to go on a date with me?"

"Oh." She sighed. "Angela said she doesn't regret her relationship with Hodgins, despite their recent breakup. She said it was all worth it, that she wouldn't change anything, though she did say she wouldn't have accepted Hodgins' offer to go on a date if she had known in advanced that they were going to breakup. At first, I thought that was rather contradictory, but the more I thought about it, it makes a little more sense to me. If you knew in advanced that a relationship wasn't going to last, why even bother going on that first date? It would be a waste."

He nodded.

"I'm still having trouble understanding how it's worth it, though, regardless if you had prior knowledge or not."

He smiled. "Because they tried, they gave love a chance, they took that leap of faith. It wasn't all good times, but they went through it all together. Yeah, it's probably a little awkward now and there're some hurt feelings flying around, especially because I know they still love each other, but eventually they'll get back to normal and move on. And who knows, maybe they'll find their way back to each other and be even stronger because of this experience." He paused. "The point is, you don't know what's going to happen, you just have to jump in with both feet and see what happens. You never know, that first date could turn into thirty, forty, or fifty years."

She swallowed.

_Rein it in, Buddy. You don't want to scare her off. _"So what made you say yes?" he asked, realizing she hadn't actually answered the question.

"Angela told me to look at our partnership and friendship objectively and use that data to decide whether or not we should take that next step together. I realized that the things most people look for in a mate or in a relationship—attraction, understanding, friendship, laughter, honesty, communication, and comfort, to name some—are all things that describe what we have together now. The only thing we seem to lack at the moment is the sexual component. Angela also said to stop letting my fear keep me from being happy. It wasn't intentional, but I have come to the conclusion that her assumption is correct."

He blinked. "So you're saying this isn't going to be a onetime thing?"

"It is still too early to answer that question, Booth. We haven't even gotten our dinner yet." She paused, finishing her wine. "Ask me again at the end of the evening." She smiled.

He smiled back. "I'm scared too. This is, I don't know why, but this just feels different—you and me. I've been on a lot of dates, been in a handful of relationships, but I've never felt like _this_ before."

"Does it feel right?"

"Yeah."

At his confused expression, she explained, "Angela told me to do what felt right."

"Is that why you said yes? This felt right to you?"

She laughed. "No, of course not, don't be ridiculous."

"Yeah, what was I thinking?"

Shrugging, she reached for the bread basket and broke off a piece, not even realizing Katie had come by and replenished their supply of rolls while they were talking. She smeared some butter on the warm, soft center of the roll and took a bite.

"Careful, Bones, you might spoil your dinner." He laughed, grabbing the half of roll she didn't take.

"I've only had one roll, Booth. I can afford to eat a half of another one. You, on the other hand, have already consumed three, not including the half you are currently saturating in butter, which, by the way, is also inadvisable."

"Okay, but you're not taking into account our different sizes. One and a half slices for you, is like a crumb for me."

"That is hardly accurate."

"Just saying you're not taking into account all the variables." He smirked, taking a big bite of his roll and already reaching for another one. "If this food doesn't get here soon, I'm going to end up eating the whole basket."

"That's not healthy and we just ordered." She paused, giving him a half, lopsided smile. "You should have gotten a salad. It takes less time to prepare and arrange that than it does to prepare and grill a steak." She suddenly got quiet and avoided his eyes.

He noticed and jumped on it. "What's wrong? Don't like their choice of music?" he joked, trying to ease the tension.

"The music selection is quite eclectic like mine and it's very enjoyable. I like this song, though I don't know who sings it or what the title of it is."

"Bones."

She sighed. "Why me? Why now?"

"Are you asking why I asked you out on a date?"

She nodded.

"You really want to know?"

Setting her roll now, she nodded. "Yes, I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know." She paused. "Besides, it's only fair that you answer that question, since I told you why I accepted your offer."

"Okay, here goes nothing. I guess it's been a long time coming. I've been there while you relived your time in foster care and your parents' and brother's abandonment. I've seen you date a lot of guys, guys that have no idea how lucky they are to be with you. I've seen you get hurt because they betray you or abandon you or lie to you."

She swallowed, but stayed silent.

"It all just came to a head on Tuesday. I know we butted heads about your questionable choice to date those two guys at once, but in the end, you decided to try your hand at monogamy and I was proud of you, but you ended up getting hurt again. At dinner that night, you just seemed so sad. My intended goal was to show you how much you mean to me, to show you that someone cares, that _I _care, but the more I tried to convince myself that those were the only reasons, the more I realized it went beyond that, went beyond just someone doing something nice for their friend and partner."

She blinked. "Thank you."

He grinned. "You're welcome." He paused. "What's your favorite dessert?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Just making conversation. You know mine, but I don't really know yours."

"Mint chocolate chip ice cream or snickerdoodles, but I enjoy fruit salad, as well."

He rolled his eyes. "Fruit isn't dessert, Bones."

"I disagree, and how can you say that when your favorite dessert is pie?"

"Plain fruit, you know, in a bowl with nothing else, isn't dessert. Fruit cooked in a warm, crunchy, flaky crust with whipped cream on top is delicious and most definitely a dessert."

She shook her head. "What was the most recent movie you watched?"

"That's an easy one, _Wall-E."_

She furrowed her brows. "I don't know what that is. What's it about?"

"Eh, you wouldn't like it."

"Why not?"

"It's a kid's movie."

"Did you watch it with Parker?"

He smiled. "Yes and he loved it."

"Perhaps we can watch it together some time. Parker's an intelligent little boy. If he found it stimulating, perhaps I will too."

"If you want to, yeah, sure, but I'm telling you it's not really your kind of movie."

"Why?"

"Because it's animated and it's about robots."

"While that doesn't sound like something I would enjoy, I won't know until I see the movie. Since you seem to be reluctant to share the synopsis of the film, I will just have to Google it later tonight." She smiled. She heard her phone ring in her purse, but she didn't want to answer it.

"Go ahead. It could be work." _Please, God, please let no one have found a dead body. __Not now._

His silent prayers were answered when she glanced at the phone and saw Angela's name flash. She pressed ignore and slipped her phone back in her purse.

"Who was it?"

"Angela. She said she'd call and lie about an emergency, so that if our date was going horribly wrong, I would have an excuse to leave." She smiled. "I don't need an excuse, at least not right now."

He smiled at her. _This is going better than I thought it would._ "Have you ever done anything to impress a guy?" He knew he shouldn't be asking her that kind of question, but he was curious.

She nodded. "Yes."

"What?"

"I was a freshman in high school; it was before my parents left. I—."

"You what?"

"I started smoking, thinking he'd notice me and think I was 'cool'."

"You're joking." He laughed. "You?"

"Why is that so hard to believe?"

"C'mon, Bones."

"What? I was a normal teenager like everyone else. I went through a rebellious stage just like you did, I'm sure."

"Yeah, I get that, but I figured our definitions of teenage rebellion would be completely different."

"I'm not proud of my decision. It was a stupid thing to do." She swallowed, finding herself lost in a memory, tears starting to well up in her eyes.

He took her hand again and nudged her with his foot. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"My mother and I fought because of that. She felt I was changing myself too much for a boy." She pulled her hand from his. "That was the last time I saw her, that's the last time we spoke."

"Oh, Bones."

She shook her head and swiped at her cheeks. "I'm fine." She paused. "Have you ever done anything to impress a woman?"

He sighed, cursing himself for asking her that question. Now she was upset and trying to hide it. "Yeah, lots of things. What do you think I'm doing in the interrogation room? Or when I kick in doors?"

"You've tried to impress me?"

He hated the fact that that was so surprising, but he was glad that she was smiling again. "Yeah. I mean, it's also my job, but if it impresses you in the process, it's a win-win."

"I'm not sure how I feel about that." Shrugging, she took a sip of her water. "Are you sure you can't tell me what we're doing after dinner?"

He laughed. "Someone's impatient."

"I'm a very patient person. You have to be when you're a scientist. Test results take time and Dermestid beetles only devour decomposing flesh so fast."

He held up his hand. "No decomposing body talk at dinner, Bones."

"Sorry." She paused. "I'm not impatient, I'm merely curious as to what we're doing after this."

"I already gave you two hints, well technically three, so you're just going to have to wait."

"Please?"

"Jesus, Bones."

"Fine." She looked up and saw a server approaching their table with a plate of food.

He followed her eyes and sighed in relief. "Finally." He groaned when the server went right past their table. "That's just not fair. They were seated after us."

"Our food will be here soon, Booth, there's no need to be angry," she said calmly, though she, too, was frustrated that their food wasn't here yet. It was another ten minutes before the server carrying a plate of food stopped at their table and set their plates in front of them.

"More wine?" The server asked.

She nodded. "Yes, please." She smiled. "Thank you. You can leave the bottle."

The server nodded and set the bottle down in the middle of the two candles. "Enjoy your meal," he said and then headed back to the kitchen.

She took a sip of wine and savored the taste before picking up her silverware and cutting up her salad. She looked up and saw Booth already eating his steak. "I assume your steak is cooked correctly?"

He nodded, licking access A1 sauce off his bottom lip. "How's your salad?"

"I don't know yet. Let me taste it first and then I'll tell you." She smirked, and spearing some greens, and grilled asparagus, peppers, and zucchini with her fork, she took a bite.

"Well? I bet it's not as good as my steak," he said between bites.

She swallowed. "This is very good; I'll have to order this again."

"You want some of my steak? I can share."

She shook her head. "No, thanks. Would you like some of my salad?"

"I think I'll pass."

"It's delicious, are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure, but I'll take some of these," he said, taking some of her onion strings off her plate and popping them in his mouth.

"Booth!"

"Hey, you always take my fries. I was nice and gave you a warning, that's more than I can say for you. You just steal my fries when you think I'm not looking."

She looked guilty for a split second and then went back to enjoying her salad.

He shook his head and took another bite of his steak. Maybe it was just because he was so hungry, but this had to be one of the best steaks he had ever eaten, maybe even the best.

* * *

Conversation continued throughout dinner and over coffee. Booth and Brennan opted not to have dessert there and to maybe stop at the diner later. Another debate, similar to the one on Tuesday, ensued when the check arrived. Booth won this time much to Brennan's chagrin. She insisted he didn't have to pay for her just because he asked her out on a date, to which he said she could pay the next time they went out.

They were currently outside. He helped her into her coat, again pulling out her trapped hair, and then the two of them headed for the SUV, his hand placed firmly on the small of her back. He decided not to chance opening the car door for her and walked around the back, hopping into the driver's seat.

Once buckled in, Brennan turned to Booth. "Can you tell me now?"

"Nope," he replied, popping the 'p'. He turned the key and pulled out of the parking space. "Does that mean you want to continue with the night? Because I can take you home if you want."

"No!" She swallowed. "I mean, no, I would like to see what you had in mind for the rest of our date."

He smiled. "Good." He drove through the city, watching Brennan out of the corner of his eye.

She was looking out the window, leaning against the door. She let a yawn escape and let her head rest on the glass.

"Tired?"

"I didn't sleep well last night."

"You sure you don't want me to take you home? My activity works just as well there."

"Are you sure it's not sex?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sure." Not waiting for her answer, he turned the SUV around and headed for her apartment.

Her eyes drifted shut and soon she was in a state somewhere between sleep and consciousness.

He smiled at her and then focused on the road ahead. He would actually prefer it just be the two of them anyway.

* * *

Booth pulled into the parking garage at Brennan's apartment. He parked in her guest spot and killed the engine, pocketing the key. He nudged his now sleeping partner a couple times before she finally woke up.

Brennan pushed herself away from the window and rubbed her eyes, momentarily confused as to where she was. She yawned and stared at Booth.

He smiled. "Hey, sleepyhead, c'mon."

She nodded, still somewhat dazed, and unbuckled her seatbelt. She hopped out of the car and followed Booth into her building and up to her floor, his arm around her waist. She leaned into his side as they walked down the hall to her apartment, only pulling away when they stopped in front of her door. She fiddled with her keys and unlocked the door, opening it and walking into her apartment. "Do you want something to drink?"

"I'm fine. Thanks, though."

She nodded, setting her things down and hanging up her and Booth's coats. She turned and found Booth at the stereo, fingering through her extensive music collection. She saw him pluck a case out and pop the CD in. She didn't recognize the music, but she quickly realized it was an instrumental track. She raised an eyebrow. "Are we going to dance, Booth?"

He crossed the room and stopped in front of her. He held out his hand and smiled at her. "Want to dance with me, Bones?"

She placed her hand in his and he pulled her into him. She gasped, letting out a surprised laugh at the maneuver. She stepped closer to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She discovered she enjoyed being this close to him.

He hooked his arms around her waist and they began to sway to the music. He closed his eyes and swallowed when she rested her head on his shoulder and sighed against his neck.

As the first track came to a close, she stepped out of his embrace a little and tilted her head back, looking up into his warm, brown eyes. "Booth?"

"Yeah, Bones?"

"Do you have any problems kissing a woman on the first date?"

His breath caught in his throat and he swallowed. "If it feels right, no."

"Good." She rose up on her toes and pulled his head down to meet her halfway. After a brief pause, she closed the gap between them completely, capturing his lips with hers. The kiss was innocent at first, but soon intensified. She felt his tongue brush against her bottom lip at the same time his hold on her tightened and she was pulled flush against him. Her lips parted automatically and her own tongue darted out in response.

He moaned and reluctantly broke the kiss. With his forehead resting against hers, he panted, his right hand subconsciously massaging her left hip.

She stepped back and looked up at him, their height difference exaggerated due to the fact that she was no longer wearing heels. She smiled and stepped right back into his embrace, her head on his shoulder again and her arms around his neck.

He wanted to kiss her again, but it seemed like she had other plans, so he repositioned his arms around her and they began to sway to the music once again.

* * *

**_Well that's the end. Epilogue to follow._**


	10. Chapter 10

**_Well, here it is, the final chapter :(_**

* * *

**TWO YEARS LATER**

* * *

Walking down the sidewalk, Booth stopped in front of the floral shop that started it all. He stepped closer to the door and reached for the handle, his movements lacking the hesitation they had a couple years ago. Pulling the door open, he walked into the shop, the little bell announcing his entrance.

The door leading into the back swung open and a petite, redheaded woman in a dirt-smudged apron walked into the main part of the store. "Can I help you with anything, sir?"

His back was to her as he checked out the floral arrangements on display. He turned at the sound of her voice, instantly recognizing it, even though it had been a couple years since he last heard it.

Marcy blinked and took off her glasses. After blowing on the lenses and wiping them clean with her shirt, she slipped her glasses back on. "I think I need a new prescription because there's no way I'm seeing things correctly."

He smiled at her, one that oozed charm, and walked up to the counter. "I'm back and need some flowers, Marcy."

"Well, you came to the right place. What kind?"

"Daisies and daffodils."

"Ah, I was hoping you'd say that." She paused. "You're not still trying to convince yourself you're not in love with your friend, are you?"

He shook his head. "No, I love her more than anything, and guess what?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I'm stumped. What?"

"She loves me too." He laughed.

"So what's the occasion?" she asked, going behind the counter and picking up a piece of ribbon that was lying on the counter. She looped it around the vase containing red and pink roses and began tying it into a bow. When he didn't answer, she looked over at him and winked. With the bow tied, she stepped back to admire her work and then disappeared into the back.

While she was gone, he took another look around. He stuffed his hands into his jeans' pockets and shuffled his feet, trying to keep his mind off tonight. His heart was already racing and his palms were starting to sweat.

"Josie's beginning your order now." She paused and waved a small white card in the air. She set it down and placed a pen on top of it, sliding both to the opposite edge of the counter, closer to where he was standing.

He padded over to the register and picked up the pen. He stared at the blank white card, much like he did the first time; however now, he knew exactly what he wanted to write, he just needed to work up the nerve to actually write it.

"How long have you been together?"

"Today's our two-year anniversary." He let out a breath and hunched over, shielding the card from Marcy as he penned his message.

"Congratulations. Two years, wow."

He slipped the card in the provided envelope and tucked the flap inside.

"I'll go see if your arrangement is ready." She walked into the back and returned, hugging a vase of daisies and daffodils.

He smiled, watching Marcy tie a bow around the vase and slip the card inside the bouquet; they were beautiful.

"Would you like these delivered?"

He nodded. "Yes, to the Jeffersonian."

"Temperance Brennan, right?"

He nodded. "You've got a good memory."

"Eh, business is slow, not many names to remember." She laughed. "And I've kept the address right here in this book just in case you came back." She paused. "Because I like you and you're a returning customer, I'll give you these for 50% off."

"Thanks." Once he paid, he put his credit card away and stuffed his wallet back into his pocket. "Bye, Marcy." He waved and headed for the door.

"I hope to see you again soon. Let me know if she says yes."

He looked at her over his shoulder and flashed her another smile before he left the shop.

* * *

Brennan was hunched over a table in one of the bone rooms, doing a last minute examination of their latest victim. They solved the case yesterday afternoon, but she was just double-checking everything for the report. She had been staring at a groove on the distal end of the victim's left femur for nearly twenty-five minutes. She didn't want to admit she was distracted, but she was. She was having a difficult time focusing on anything other than her dinner plans with Booth later that evening. He would be there soon to pick her up and she was a bit apprehensive about seeing him.

Booth had been acting strangely for a week now, but when she confronted him about it, he just said it was nothing, that he was fine, that they were fine, and then quickly changed the subject. She wasn't normally any good at reading people, but this was Booth. She had always been able to tell when something was wrong and now that they were living together and had been for the past eight months, it was getting much easier.

He was keeping something from her, that she was sure of; she just didn't know what that something was. She was trying not to jump to any conclusions, but she was worried. Sighing, she turned her focus back to the laid out skeleton.

She was just setting down the bone when she heard a knock on the doorframe. "Just give me a minute, Booth."

"Uh, Dr. Brennan?"

She looked up to see Todd, the security guard, standing just outside the room with a vase of daisies and daffodils in his arms. "Oh, Todd, hello." She pulled off her gloves expertly and tossed them in the bio-hazard bin before walking over to him and reaching for the flowers. She smiled, burying her face in the petals, inhaling the sweet mixture of scents. "Thank you." She set the vase on a nearby table and plucked the card from its clip. She removed it from the envelope and opened it. She glanced down, reading the text to herself, _Will you marry me? –Jasper. _She blinked and looked up, nearly jumping back when she saw Booth standing there. "Booth," she gasped.

Booth stepped closer to her and took the envelope from her, setting it down beside the vase. He reached for her hands and smiled, swallowing hard. "Bones, this whole thing started because I wanted to make you feel better, because I wanted you to know that someone cared about you and I tried so hard to convince myself I wasn't in love with you. We were partners and friends and I knew how you felt about monogamy and relationships in general. I was too afraid to make the first move because I was scared you'd turn me down. I wouldn't have been able to handle that; it would've hurt too much."

"Booth," she interrupted.

"Please, just let me say this."

She nodded.

"I love you and I'm so glad I stopped lying to myself because the last two years have been amazing, Bones. Nothing's really changed. We kiss now, hold hands, and make love, but our relationship isn't much different than it was. We still bicker, annoy the crap out of each other, and you're still the person I want to tell everything to, even the bad stuff. We're still partners and best friends, but we're so much more now and I never want to go back. I love going to sleep and waking up next to you. I just love being around you; it doesn't even matter what we're doing. I love that we can talk to each other about anything and everything, that we do, and I just can't imagine my life without you."

She cleared her throat and blinked, feeling tears welling up in her eyes.

"I've thought about this for a while and I kept telling myself not to do it because I know how you feel about marriage, but I—I want to marry you, Bones. I want to spend the rest of my life with you by my side." He gave her hands a squeeze before letting go and reaching into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a small box and cracked it open.

She gasped; she knew that ring.

"I'm not going to get down on one knee and you don't have to wear it, but—."

"How? Where?"

"Your dad gave it to me."

She narrowed her eyes.

"Before you yell at me, I didn't ask for your hand in marriage, Bones. I know you'd kick my ass if I did that. I didn't go to your dad to ask permission to marry you, okay? I just thought he'd like to know what I was going to do before I did it. He gave me the ring, said it was your mother's, and that he knew she'd want you to have it. Even if you say no, it's still yours."

She took it from the box and held it with her fingertips, staring at it.

"Bones?"

She swiped her hand against her cheek and met his gaze through blurry vision. "I—."

"Will you marry me? Will you be my wife?"

She looked at the ring again, a few more tears making their way down her face. She swallowed the lump in her throat and curled her right hand around the ring.

He thought his heart was going to jump out of his chest. "Say something, Bones, anything, c'mon, I'm dying here."

She remained silent for another few seconds before she looked at him and smiled. "Yes."

His eyes widened. "Yes?" he asked, his voice catching.

She nodded. "Yes."

He stepped more into her personal space and wrapped his arms around her, still clutching the now empty ring box. He dipped his chin and closed his eyes when his lips first lightly grazed hers.

She slipped her arms around his torso and tilted her head just a little to the side. She parted her lips and deepened the kiss. A moan escaped from deep in her throat and she shifted her hips.

Desperately needing to breathe, he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers, his nose nudging hers. "Say it."

"Say what?"

"Say you'll marry me."

"I already did."

He shook his head. "No, say the words."

She furrowed her brows and pulled away, his arms still around her waist. "Why?"

"Please? I just want to hear you say it."

She sighed, but indulged him anyway. "Fine." She smiled. "Yes, Booth, I will marry you." Before she had a chance to react, his lips came crashing down on hers. "Why did saying it make a difference?"

"It just did," he murmured. "I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered, her breath brushing against his lips as they continued to kiss.

He groaned, pulling her flush against him. "We have to get going. We have reservations at—." He trailed off when she started kissing down his neck. "Bones."

She sighed, but continued to kiss him, making her way back to his mouth. "Five more minutes." She tugged on his lapels, pulling him closer.

He was just too damn happy to protest and as five minutes turned into ten, then twenty, then sixty, he couldn't make himself care about their dinner reservations.

They stopped kissing briefly to make the trek to her office and soon collapsed on the couch, resuming what they had been doing for the past hour, this time with a little less clothing.

* * *

**_THE END!_**

* * *

**_Thanks for reading and double thanks for the reviews. _**


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